


Cruisin’

by TammyRenH



Series: Hurt/comfort bingo [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Ghosts, M/M, Motion Sickness, Sick Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26002447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TammyRenH/pseuds/TammyRenH
Summary: Sam and Dean find themselves on a cruise while working a case. Dean is expecting a fairly simple salt and burn, all the food he can eat, and sexy times with his brother. What he isn’t expecting is a real fun case of sea sickness.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Hurt/comfort bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827415
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	Cruisin’

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the motion sickness square of my h/c bingo card.

Sam’s head was down, his hair cascading over his face, as he scrolled through his phone. Dean punched him in the side.

“Stop that,” Sam ordered, never looking up from his phone. So Dean punched him again.

Sam sighed, looked up at the line which hadn’t moved at all, and then over to Dean. “You are acting like a kid who has just been given a key to the candy store. It’s just a case.”

Dean snorted. “Just a case my ass. We are going on a freaking cruise Sam. All you can eat buffets. That means all the food you can eat Sammy.”

“Yes, thank you for explaining that to me, because my college-educated brain couldn’t figure that one out on my own. I hope they are prepared for you.” The line began to move, finally they were boarding. Sam put away his phone.

“No one can really be prepared for me.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows, and slipped his hand inside Sam’s back pocket.

Expectedly, Sam escaped from his roaming fingers. “We are in public,” he hissed.

Dean shrugged. “Nobody here knows who we are.”

“Mr. Perkins does.” Sam had not-subtly-at-all moved far enough away so that he was no longer in reaching distance of Dean. 

Dean snorted. “He’s an executive, he won’t be here.” Dean looked up at the ship, it looked gigantic up close. “We should do it on the balcony, give the whales a real show.”

“And they say romance is dead,” Sam retorted. “We are here on a case remember.”

They both stopped talking as they were greeted and then ushered into a large room to wait for the cabins to be ready.

“I remember, it’s a ghost. A simple salt and burn. There’s going to be plenty of time for fun Sam. This is our first real vacation since you started blowing off our annual trip to Las Vegas. I plan to enjoy it, and you are going to enjoy it too if I have to throw all your electronics in the ocean in order to make that happen.”

Sam sat in a chair by the railing, looking out into the crystal blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean. “The view is nice, I’ll give you that. But still, it might be a simple salt and burn, but we have to find something to salt first.”

Richard Perkins was the son of a hunter, and had known John through his father, and while his father hadn’t exactly liked John, he had respected him. When guests began to report seeing a lady in blue appearing and disappearing, especially in cabin 313, Richard reached out to Sam and Dean to help with the situation. He had offered them as payment an all expenses paid, six day trip to the Bahamas and back. 

Sam had already did his research thing and had zoomed in on who the lady in blue probably was, one Sarah Applewood who had disappeared off the boat seven years before, and who had just happened to be staying in cabin 313 with her spouse, Andrew. No trace of Sarah had ever been found, she was assumed to have perished in an accidental drowning, several people reported seeing her drinking heavily the night she vanished.

Of course, if she fell (or was pushed) overboard, finding anything to salt and burn would be a little on the difficult side. But Dean was going to worry about that later, right now, somewhere on this ship, there was a buffet being stuffed with food and Dean intended to sample everything.

“So, you have an unreasonable fear of flying, but sailing is okay?” Sam asked, interrupting Dean’s daydream of rows and rows of food.

“I do not have an unreasonable fear of anything, I have a perfectly respectful appreciation of the dangers of flying. This ship is solid, there has never been any incidents, except of course for Sarah, and she has passed all inspections, including the one that was completed after her last voyage.” Sam looked up at him from the chair he had settled in, his expression a little shocked and a bit impressed. “You’re not the only one who can research.”

“Geek,” Sam mumbled, but his dimples were showing.

Dean huffed, barely resisted running his hand over Sam’s hair, which had slipped over his face again. If Dean wasn’t so into tugging on it at certain intense moments, he would have cut it long ago. “If we want to discuss unreasonable fear – “

Sam cut him off, which Dean was expecting. Sam had heard Dean tease him about clowns a thousand times, including the time that Dean had dressed up as one and slipped into Sam’s bed. It had done nothing to cure Sam of his phobia, in fact Sam wouldn’t touch him until he took the makeup off, but it had set up a chain reaction of them dressing up in some very interesting outfits. Dean was thinking about the time Sam had come to his bed wearing just a cowboy hat and ass-less chaps when Sam cruelly dragged his thoughts back to the here and now. “I wish they’d hurry up, I’d really like to get into that cabin and check for EMF.”

“We could do that, or we could christen the room,” Dean kept his voice low, deep, the way he knew his Sammy liked it. “I brought a sailor’s hat – “

“The job,” Sam reminded him, but that hitch in his breath gave him away.

They were interrupted by being called for a safety demonstration. Dean pressed close behind Sam, very close, and may have accidentally rocked into Sam’s backside with his crotch once or twice or a dozen times during the mandatory lecture about safety. 

By the time the demonstration was over, the rooms and the food were ready. They had a brief argument about where they were going to head first, Dean let Sam win, but only because he had been promised the food was unlimited-less and plenty would be waiting for him. Plus, the hamburger at the greasy spoon they had eaten at on the way to the port might have been a bit too greasy. He was feeling slightly queasy as the ship left port and made its way into the ocean, but nothing that a ginger ale could not fix.

The room was small and made even tinier by Sam’s hulky presence, it took no time at all to check every inch of it with the EMF meter, there was nothing. Whatever Sarah had left behind, it wasn’t in here. 

The ship was rocking, and not a gentle rocking motion either, the ship felt like it was jerkier with every passing second. Dean sat on the edge of one of the beds, watched out of the corner of his eye as Sam walked out into the balcony.

“Shit, the ocean is really rolling out here, look at those waves.” Sam ducked his head back inside the room. “C’mon Dean you have to see this.”

Sam was standing on the balcony that Sarah most likely disappeared from and the ship was lurching around. It was more of a testament to how off-kilter Dean was feeling and less of a testament to his willpower that he had not pulled Sam back into the room and slammed the balcony door shut.

“Come back inside so we can head upstairs,” he said instead, hoping it sounded like a suggestion as Sam tended to get all prissy if he thought Dean was ordering him around. “I don’t want the food to get cold.”

Sam looked at him from the doorway of the balcony. “I thought you wanted to fuck me out here.”

“What I want to do right now is eat,” Dean stood up, it took a moment to get his bearing. His stomach heaved dangerously, but Dean shut it down with the force of his will (and his immense desire not to embarrass himself in front of his little brother). “Then we’ll talk about where to fuck later.”

“You are such a smooth talker,” Sam teased. But he was looking at Dean with concern as he shut the door to the balcony and followed Dean out of the room. 

There was, as promised, a lot of food. And all that piled-up-high food smelled, like a lot. Many different strong scents, very close together. Dean could tell Sam was still watching him carefully as he pretended, he wasn’t, so he made sure to grab a lot of food, not wanting to admit his appetite had fled along with his enthusiasm for the cruise.

They found a small table with a beautiful view of the ocean, which Dean just barely glanced at long enough to note the waves were still choppy. A server stopped by to ask what they would like to drink. She was young, petite, had black hair and dark blue eyes and was just radiating enthusiasm which Dean found especially annoying at the moment. He ordered a Coke and tequila and waited for Sam to order herbal tea or some other kind of too-boring-for-vacation drink. Sam was looking at the necklace the woman was wearing. “Pretty necklace,” Sam said and yeah, it would be just like his brother to notice something like that. “I like the color, it’s an unusual shade of jade.”

The woman’s hand covered the necklace unconsciously. “Thank you, it was given to me by a passenger who – anyway, I like to wear it when I’m on the ship, it reminds me of her. I like your ah – shirt too, plaid is so very retro.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He would think Sam and the chick were flirting if he didn’t know Sam would never. Dean cleared his throat, and the server seemed to remember her job duties. “I’ll be right back with your drinks gentlemen.”

“And what was that about?” Dean asked, picking up his fork and looking down at his plate. The mountain of food stared back at him.

“The necklace, Sarah was wearing it in one of the pictures that was featured in the stories about her disappearance.” Sam said, absently chewing on salad as he spoke. The dressing smelled tangy, Dean put his own fork back down. “We need to get our hands on that necklace, if it did belong to Sarah, and her husband was the abusive shit I think he was, there might be a trace of blood somewhere on the chain. The way it’s woven it could be – Dean, are you okay?”

Dean’s stomach was sloshing inside, rumbling and rolling with the ship.

“I’m fine,” Dean snapped. “Go on, you were saying – “

And his stomach gave up the fight, just like that. Dean stood up quickly, almost knocking down an elderly couple headed for a nearby table as he rushed for the nearest railing.

God, he hated being sick, and it seemed to go on for-freaking-ever. He was still heaving the contents of everything he had ever inhaled in his life when he felt a familiar broad hand on his back.

“We have medical services on board,” It was their server talking. “I could take you there.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got him.” Sam’s voice was soothing, so was his hand as it rubbed against Dean’s lower back. “Come on Dean, let’s get you back to the room.”

His stomach had stopped trying to turn itself inside out, but Dean still felt miserable as fuck and what he really wanted to do was just sit right down on the deck and dwell in his misery. But he allowed Sam to pull him away from the railing and for a moment let Sam’s hand on his back guide him. They reached the elevator and a woman stepped back to allow them to enter the elevator first, asking Sam if Dean was okay and if she could do anything to help. And fuck that, Dean shook off Sam’s hand and stood tall, staring resolutely at the elevator door. He might be a bit off-kilter, but he wasn’t an invalid. He could certainly walk by his damn self.

His legs were so shaky by the time that they got to their cabin, that he was unsteady as if he had drunk his weight in beer. And, impossible as it seemed considering what had just happened, he needed to throw up again.

He made it to the tiny bathroom, barely, and clung on to the toilet like it was a life line.

“I’m going to be right back okay?” Sam was saying as Dean lost his brief war with holding on to the contents that were left in his stomach, mostly just bile now. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Dean huffed at that. “Don’t be getting me a doctor, I don’t need no fucking doctor, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I can tell,’ Sam sounded almost amused as the left the bathroom.  
It felt like forever. The nausea didn’t lessen, but Dean’s stomach had given up everything it had and then some so he was just sitting there, arms around the toilet, wishing for a quick death when he heard Sam return.

Quickly he sat up as straight as he could as Sam entered the bathroom.

“Here, chew on these.” Sam pushed two pink chewable pills in Dean’s hand.

Dean furled his nose, the last thing he felt like was chewing on anything right now, especially not the equivalent of pink chalk. “I’m fine, I just need to rest a bit. I don’t need this shit.”

“Less talking, more chewing.” 

Sam had that irritating I’m-a-bigger-bitch-than-you tone to his voice and Dean sighed. “When I puke this back up, I’m blaming you.”

“I would expect no less.” Sam said, and then stuck something behind Dean’s ear. Dean immediately reached up to pul it off. “Leave it alone, it’s a patch that will help with the motion sickness. That nice lady we met at the elevator gave me one from her stash.”

“I don’t have motion sickness.” Dean said, as he chewed the second chewable tablet and then gave a loud burp. Sam made that adorable disgusted face of his.

“Seasickness is not a weakness Dean. You will still be my favorite tough guy. Now let’s get you to bed.” Sam pulled Dean to a standing position, the world shivered for a moment as Dean tried to get his bearings. “It takes a while for the patch to work, you should lie down in the meantime.”

Dean managed a leer. “You ready to start the room christening Sammy?”

Sam wrinkled his nose and poured some water into the small plastic cup by the sink. “So very tempting. Here, rinse out your mouth and I’ll help you to bed.”

“I could still kick your ass,” Dean mumbled, not leaning into Sam at all as he was led to the tiny bit of metal and fabric the cruise line jokingly referred to as a bed.

He tried to curl up in bed just as he was so he could die in peace, but Sam, the bastard, yanked and pulled on his clothes like the fucking Sasquatch he was until Dean was down to his boxers.”I knew you just wanted to get me naked, can’t get enough of me.” He murmured as Sam pulled the blanket down.

“You are irresistible.” Sam affirmed, and then settled in back of him, pushing Dean closer to the wall. The bed wasn’t big enough for one of their six-foot-plus asses, much less two. And Dean was going to protest, just as soon as he could rouse himself enough to do so. His eyelids were beginning to droop as Sam settled a hand over his lower belly, his long fingers sprayed from Dean’s hip past his belly button. He didn’t press, or move his fingers at all, they were just a nice solid presence and Dean’s tense stomach muscles began to settle.

Somehow Sam molded himself against Dean’s back, he had to be half dangling off the bed. Sam felt

solid, reassuring. Normally Dean hated being the little spoon. Despite their sort of slight height difference, Dean usually liked to be the one holding Sam. But for this moment, with so little space, he guessed he could live with it. Especially with the way Sam was pulling him in so tightly, anchoring him.

“Feeling any better?” Sam asked, his voice low and soothing. Dean hadn’t even noticed, but Sam had turned out the lights in the room. It wasn’t quite dark yet, there were still hints of sun slipping through the curtains covering the balcony door. 

“Just need to rest a moment,” Dean said. “Don’t get too comfortable because we are getting up in ten, we got to a case to solve.”

“Ghost isn’t going anywhere,” Sam replied. “She can wait until tomorrow night.”

Dean was going to argue, but his eyes just wouldn’t stay open and Sam was humming, some old hippie song and it was kind of nice the way that Sam’s long, so long, fingers were playing with his hair and – 

Sam was snoring when he woke and probably slobbering all over Dean’s head. Every bit of Dean felt sore, the way they were cramped so close together in such a limited space. 

But it wasn’t the snoring that had woke Dean up, or the soreness of cramped muscles. It was the ghost.

Dean struggled free from all of Sam’s octopus arms and sat up.

She was just staring at them, not moving, not speaking, just staring.

For a moment they just looked at each other. Sam stirred, trying to grab Dean and pull him back close, even while he was deep in sleep.

Dean realized that his stomach had settled, tomorrow morning there had better be a buffet just crammed with food cause he was going to eat until he weighed as much as a whale. All the fucking bacon he could eat…

He laid back down, surrendering to Sam’s pull and the need for more sleep. This time he faced Sam, intertwining their bodies together. Their first stop was a private island that the cruise line owned. He thought of Sam, swimming in the ocean, drops of water glistening on his skin and this time it wasn’t his stomach that ached.

Over Sam's head, the ghost still stared. Dean reassured Sarah. “Enjoy your ghosting tonight because tomorrow my brother and I will put you to rest.”

He didn’t see her smile as he drifted back to sleep.


End file.
